


Believe in Yesterdays

by StandinShadow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Hope Spot If You Read Between the Lines, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Miscommunication, Pining Keith (Voltron), Self-Esteem Issues, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 22:56:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13133937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StandinShadow/pseuds/StandinShadow
Summary: Keith decides he's not right for Voltron anymore. Everything fractures after that, but sometimes Lance thinks he's the only one who really sees how much.Or during and post season 4 Keith and Lance POV as the team does and does not change and Keith thinks he's hit a wall he can't overcome.





	Believe in Yesterdays

  Keith realizes he doesn’t belong with team Voltron too late, after he already cares about them and wants to stay, even though he knows he shouldn’t. But he can’t leave either, not when there aren’t enough paladins. Maybe, maybe he’ll end up being needed after all.

  But no. Things only get worse after Shiro comes back. Not for him, not really – because nothing was more important to Keith than finding Shiro and bringing him home – but for the team. Somehow all of Keith’s failings as a team leader, hell as a paladin, are magnified with Shiro back. Shiro who gives perfect orders during all of their practice runs, who can make everyone feel better, whose smile shines out on every Coalition poster. Keith’s sell the least. He’s not surprised, he wouldn’t someone so angry, so uncontrolled on his poster either. And that’s the problem isn’t it, that he’s supposed to be the leader and he’s still too wild and impulsive, too selfish and small-minded, too … wrong for the team.

  He should be getting better, but if anything, he feels like he’s regressing. Allura has stepped up to the plate and became a paladin and a teammate. Lance supports everyone in ways Keith never could as the supposed right-hand man. Pidge and Hunk learned their lessons long ago, letting go of their own desires and fears to focus on the team. Shiro sought out a new role for himself when Black rejected him. Everyone’s growing and becoming better and Keith … isn’t. he’s no different than he was when they first got here. His plans as a leader, his instincts as a leader are still bad, he still needs help all the time. The only thing Keith adds to the team is raw fighting ability, and with Shiro back and Allura improving rapidly as a pilot, Keith isn’t sure he offers that much anymore.  

  Keith needs help, more help than Shiro can offer him. That’s how he finds himself on the Blade’s doorstep begging for training, gaze just broken enough for Kolivan to give him a chance. But Keith doesn’t learn how to be a leader. He doesn’t even learn about his mom or grandma or whoever the Galra in his family was. Mostly he learns how to be invisible, how to turn stubbornness into something close to an asset. He becomes more of a soldier than ever, but that’s not what Voltron needs. Keith isn’t becoming what Voltron needs, no matter how much help he gets.

  “You seem troubled, we do not have time for the personal,” Kolivan says to him one day when Keith is hovering at the base of the Blade after a mission. Keith glances over at the older man, his own mask slowly coming off as he gives him a tepid smile. Kolivan doesn’t return it. He never does.

  “I’m not a good leader,” Keith mutters after a beat, letting out a frustrated sigh as he presses his hand against the wall. He needs to be back at the Castle soon, but Keith needs some kind of advice, something to hold on to. Kolivan won’t lie to him or sugarcoat it the way the team, the way _Shiro_ will. “I’m not getting better.”

  “Then you need to think about what’s best for Voltron and for the cause,” Kolivan answers him coolly, not glancing back at Keith as he walks back to his own soldiers. It’s not meant unkindly, not meant to sting Keith the way it does. But Keith still feels like the air has been knocked of him. Keith knows Kolivan is right, but he doesn’t know what to do if his fears are real, if hard work and talent and trying can’t make him what Voltron needs. Keith wants – he wants to stay with his friends, wants to belong.

  But like Lance once said, this is a war, not a participation game. Keith needs to be where he’s the most useful. Everyone does. For the others, that’s Voltron. For Shiro, that’s Voltron if Keith could just get him to try again, to believe in himself as much as Keith does. For himself though … Keith finds himself in the training room more and more often when he’s not with the Blade, hours spent trying to make himself something, different, better, _necessary_. It doesn’t work.

  “Hey Keith, you’ve been training a lot lately, might wanna take a break before you exhaust yourself,” Lance calls out to him one day when Keith’s in the middle of knocking down one of the bots. Keith freezes mid-swing, pulling back as the machine slowly goes dead. Keith wonders when he started letting Lance decide when he stops training. Keith wonders when stopped knowing his own limits.

  “I need to get better,” Keith snaps as his frustration builds a little more, because he’s not just stuck, he’s actively regressing. Lance stares back at him, eyebrows sloping down a little as he takes a step back. Keith takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds because his own failures aren’t Lance’s fault. They’re only his own. Keith opens his eyes after a beat, giving Lance a tight look. “I’ve been stalled out at level 5 for weeks.”

  “Still at least a level higher than the rest of us,” Lance points out with a shrug, frowning a little as his eyebrows scrunch together. Keith can tell from the question in his gaze that Lance knows something is wrong. Fuck. Keith crosses his arms and looks away, back toward the bot he should’ve been able to beat with ease by now.

  “Not for long,” Keith says instead of acknowledging Lance’s point, thinking of how much better Lance’s shots have gotten, how Pidge has learned to use her small size to her advantage, how much Hunk has moved past his fears. All of them are incredible. Keith isn’t.

  Lance frowns tightly, reaching out a hand and sliding it to Keith’s shoulder, squeezing softly as his gaze grows a little gentler. Keith bites his lip and remembers how Lance supported him during their first fight with Lotor, how he did when Black first picked him even if Lance didn’t want him as a leader, was only accepting Black’s choice because what else could any of them do? And Keith wants to share, wants Lance’s help or support but – Keith’s the leader. Shiro never went to anyone for that and neither can he. That’s just how things are. Lance’s frown grows tighter as Keith pulls away from him, long fingers hovering in the air. “Hey, are you okay?”

 “I’m fine,” Keith answers quickly, he knows a little too quickly as he gives Lance a tight smile. Lance shakes his head, fingers brushing his shoulder again before they pull away again. Keith can still feel them as he walks out of the training room without looking back. “Good night, Lance.”

  A week later Keith makes a mistake that was necessary and Shiro finds his way back to Black. Keith finds a way to where he belongs, even if it leaves him feeling hollowed out.

* * *

 

  Keith leaves and things change, but they also don’t. Lance still worries about not being good enough, about holding the team back because he’s not a genius or naturally gifted fighter or pilot. He compares himself as much to Allura and Shiro as he ever did to Keith, which makes him think the issue wasn’t ever Keith Song, Garrison Golden Boy. Not really. But now it kind of is, the other boy haunting the ship in small ways, ghosts of boys fighting robots and having silly fights with him and small smiles everywhere Lance looks. He can tell he’s not the only one who misses Keith, Shiro glancing at his door too often not to be noticeable and Pidge stealing his jacket from his room without asking anyone. They all do their best to ignore the feeling though.

  And the team, well the team isn’t really affected and somehow that makes it hurt worse. Lance doesn’t know why. Shiro’s a better, more decisive leader than Keith was, plans and strategizes, controls himself in a way Keith couldn’t, maybe never could. Shiro doesn’t treat Lance like his right hand as much, doesn’t listen to his concerns or heed his careful warnings, but then neither did Keith at first. It’s a learning curve Lance knows Shiro will overcome, and besides, he doesn’t need Lance’s advice as much.

  It makes Lance feel a little less important than before, but that isn’t really the point. Their feelings are, have to be, secondary to Voltron and the team. Knowing that, keeping his focus on that, is why Red accepted him in the first place. They need Shiro as their leader, or at least someone like him. Lance just isn’t sure where that leaves him or Keith.

  “How long do you think Keith is going to stay gone?” Lance asks one day when he and Shiro are alone in the sitting room, glancing out at the stars. Somewhere out there Keith is risking his life right now, with people much less worried about sacrificing theirs than anyone on Voltron is. It terrifies Lance. Lance can only imagine what it does to Shiro, who knew Keith before any of them, mentored him. But Shiro doesn’t look upset, expression blank as he stares at a wall, lips pressed into a thin line.  

  “I don’t know. Keith’s always put the mission first,” Shiro murmurs in a tight voice, and there’s something distant underlying his words that Lance doesn’t understand, but it makes his stomach curl. It’s like Shiro already gave up on Keith. “He might not come back at all. Voltron doesn’t need him right now.”

  Lance wants to ask more, find out what’s left Shiro so cold, but then the Coalition events start in earnest and everything is forgotten. Lance barely has time to think as he darts from parade to parade, show to show, smile bright and practiced and just a little less real with each event. Lance enjoys the attention and praise, the _validation_ , but at the same time all of the smiling and acting and speeches are grating on even his nerves. They have so much work to do, so many battles to fight along with this. Trying to juggle everything is hard.

  And sometimes, well, especially after the ice show, some of it feels kind of pointless. Lance would never tell Coran that and he doesn’t think that bout the times they give out food or gives speeches or show them Voltron, but sometimes he worries about the commercials and posters even though he can’t figure out why. Lance thinks they need to pull back, but then Shiro isn’t wrong when he says they’ve never been more popular and they need all the allies they can get.

  “Keith would’ve hated that,” Lance muses to Pidge after their second ice show, on a planet Lance has never heard of before. They’re both leaning against a wall, barely listening as Allura and Shiro give another speech about the importance of having a united front. Lance has heard too many to find them exciting anymore. He can only imagine how annoyed his favorite mullet would be right now.

  “Yeah, and he probably would’ve scared off all of the kids by being all grumpy and emo,” Pidge chirps as she shakes her head, grinning fondly as she stares off into the distance. Lance chuckles along for a second, only for his smile to fade little by little as he considers her words. Keith would’ve scared people. Pidge smiles crookedly as she nudges him with her shoulder. “Probably some of the adults too.”

  “That’s … probably true,” Lance mutters softly, voice dropping as he bites his lip. Pidge catches his gaze, frowning as she catches on to the sudden shift in the air. Lance suddenly understands where part of his annoyance with the coalition events is coming from, because the more they become an everyday part of Voltron, the more they do, the less room there is for Keith to come back to the team. The gulf between what Voltron is and what Keith wants and has to offer grows wider with each commercial and parade.

  “Lance, are you okay?” Pidge asks in a small voice, bumping his shoulder again as her gaze grows a little tighter. She knows something is wrong, and Lance knows from experience there’s no point in sugarcoating with Pidge. She’ll see right through him.

  “What if there isn’t a place for Keith to come back to Pidge? What if us focusing on the coalition means there isn’t a Voltron that includes Keith?” Lance rambles as he crosses his arms tightly against his chest, half hugging himself. There’s a cold comfort there and he wonders idly if that’s what Keith got from it too. Next to him Pidge takes in a sharp intake of breath, gaze becoming sadder as she takes a step away from him, as though she can blot out the truth of his words with enough distance.

  “The Arusians and the Olkari liked him,” Pidge says after a beat, glancing back at Lance with a determination in her gaze. Pidge has always wanted to save and protect her family, from the moment they launched into space. Hell, from before that. Lance is moved that that includes Keith, includes him now. But he doesn’t think her determination is going to be enough this time.

  Lance nods anyway, slow and stilted as he squeezes his hands into fists. Somehow things feel just a little direr than they did a minute ago, the air suddenly thick and his mouth dry. “Yeah.”

  Lance walks away after that, wordlessly trying to find a reason for Keith. After Shiro almost gets them all killed because he refuses to listen, refuses to consider he could be wrong, Lance wants to believe this it. But Keith did the same thing just a few weeks ago. He learned from his mistake. There’s no reason to think Shiro, calmer and older and wiser, won’t as well. Keith doesn’t even find them Lotor, who offers himself up on a silver platter after the rest of them all failed. No matter how much math Lance does, he can’t make a team where both he and Keith are needed.   

 Lance doesn’t understand why he cares so much when it feels like everyone else is moving on, Pidge losing Keith’s coat somewhere in the castle and Shiro mentioning turning his room into a guest room. He has no idea until he sees Keith’s face at their meeting with Lotor, soft, tired eyes and a slightly thinner face staring back at him from across the room. Lance likes Keith, he misses Keith, and he wants him to come home. Lance is just afraid there isn’t one for both of them.  

* * *

  Keith finds Lance after the coalition meeting, sliding through the door to his bedroom. He noticed Lance watching him during the meeting, felt his gaze following him down the hallways like a weight he couldn’t shake off, didn’t want to shake off. Keith misses Lance, misses everyone, but … the others didn’t look at him. Not like Lance. This is his best bet for … Keith has no idea what, but something he can feel in his veins, something he’s missing and leaves him feeling like he’s constantly on mute. Lance stares up at him, eyes widening though he makes no other movement, just stares at Keith like he’s a ghost.

  “Lance, good to see you,” Keith calls out as he stands in the doorway, giving the other boy a weak smile as he clutches the wall with one gloved hand. Lance blinks owlishly, shaking his head a little as he pats the space on the bed next to him. After a second Keith walks over to him, watching the door close with a strange sense of relief but also sadness. Keith collapses on the bed next to Lance, forearms pressed against his knees as he stares over at Lance. “How are you doing?”

  “A little worse for wear, almost dying tends to do that to a person,” Lance tells him with a small laugh, eyes crinkling at the side a bit as he returns Keith’s gaze with a warm one of his own. Keith lets out a laugh that sounds strained to his own ears, the moment he nearly died coming back to him, all the things he hasn’t let himself think or feel flashing across his mind in the face of Lance, so young and alive and here. Keith closes his eyes and tries to push them away. There’s no room for them in this fight, and Keith’s let them ruin enough things. He’s not letting them ruin Lance too. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Keith promises with a small grin, lopsided and shaky as he leans toward Lance a little. His hair brushes against his shoulders and Keith wonders idly when it got so long. He wonders if this means Lance can’t call him mullet anymore. For some reason, the thought makes him feel lonely, smile growing brittle. “Just tired. Like you must have been after that ice show. Gotta imagine that the loverboy has a lot of fans.”

  “Wow, how long have you been holding that one in?” Lance scoffs as Keith’s smile turns into a smirk, some of the tension leaving the air as Lance playfully punches him on the shoulder. Keith chortles, soft and high, the first time he’s laughed since he left the castle a few weeks ago. He thought the Blade would make him feel more at home, more grounded, but this is the most Keith’s felt like himself in over a month. He misses this, he misses the team, he misses Lance.

  “Two weeks,” Keith answers him with a slight shrug, remembering the mix of horror and amusement that filled him when he first watched their ice show. Keith was happy to miss that, but he also couldn’t help noticing just how literally he’d been replaced. Keith’s laugh grows a little more rueful as he remembers Allura trying to mimic his ugly sneers and standoffish behavior. No wonder the team’s popularity went up after he left. He looked terrifying. “I have to admit Allura makes a better Keith though.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” Lance insists, voice rising suddenly as he leans in and gives Keith a tight glare, expression surprisingly fierce as he grabs his shoulder. Keith bristles under his gaze, even as a strange kind of warmth fills him. He doesn’t need Lance’s pity or reassurance. They both know Allura’s the most natural at this, Lance said so himself. “Keith, you’re not –“

  “What Voltron needs anymore,” Keith cuts him off before Lance can try and argue, try and find a place for Keith on the team again. Keith tried for months and there just isn’t one. Maybe there was at the start, when they needed that push, the focus on the mission and someone to make quick choices, but they’re all devoted to it now and they know how to plan. They don’t need someone pushing them and making impulsive choices that rarely work out. Keith became a burden for Voltron so he went where he could be useful. It’s just how the math worked out. “I know that isn’t what you were going to say, but it’s the truth. I wasn’t a good leader, you’re better with Red and Shiro’s better with Black, and I would’ve only turned people off at the parades.”

  “I’m not better with Red,” Lance says, voice dropping a bit, something soft and a little sad coming into his gaze. Keith shakes his head, giving the other boy a weak smile, because he doesn’t mean as a pilot. Keith might still be better at that, but Lance fits Red better, can control Red’s wild emotions rather than share them, can focus on the team in a way Keith can’t. lance belongs here and with Red. Keith never did, no matter how much he wanted to. “And with the leadership or the parades or anything else, you could’ve learned, you were _trying_ until you stopped.”

  “Trying doesn’t matter if you’ve stagnated,” Keith tells Lance in a surprisingly calm voice, shocking himself at the quiet resignation in his voice. He ghosts a hand over the one on his shoulder, only to pull back before he touches Lance’s own with his, shaking his head a little. He doesn’t get these things anymore, if he was ever going to.

  “Keith, we would’ve … you haven’t stagnated,” Lance snaps, frustration coming into his voice at the same time it goes out of Keith. Lance’s gaze is hot with anger and hurt, and with something new Keith doesn’t recognize except that he knows it’s desperate. Keith thinks he used to feel it too. Lance leans in again, voice softer this time. “You’re still growing, you’re only 18-“

  “18 isn’t that young,” Keith murmurs quietly, shaking his head so his bangs fall across his face. He ignores Lance’s whispered comment about Hunk turning 18 soon, glancing down at where their hands lie side by side. Lance’s long, delicate fingers are so close to his short, stubby gloved ones. Keith gently peels off his gloves, staring at his hand before he glances back at Lance’s with a small smile. “Can I hold your hand?”

  Lance stares back at him, eyes widening a little as a light flush comes over his cheeks. Right. They don’t do this, they didn’t even when Keith was here and part of everything. There’s no reason for them to start now when they’re both realizing he’s not going to come back. Keith bites his lip and shakes his head, starting to pull back and ready to apologize and run – because that’s what he always does -  when Lance grabs his hand.

  It’s awkward at first, their fingers at the wrong angle and grips too tight. But then Keith slots his fingers through Lance’s and drops his head against Lance’s shoulder, sighing softly when Lance presses a hand against his cheek. they sit there just like that for a very long time, no words shared between them. Keith doesn’t go back to the Blade that night.

  “Thank you, for today,” Keith says the next morning as he pulls on one of the gloves of his Blade uniform, standing in the doorway of Lance’s room. Lance is still in bed, tangled up in in the sheets, the bright blue of his pajamas in stark contrast to the white of his sheets. It matches the blue of his eyes, which slowly look up at Keith, sleepy and warm even as his smile starts to fade and the reality of their situation sets back in.  

  Lance looks up at him with a piercing gaze, glancing at the edge of his bed before he shakes his head, bangs messily falling across his forehead as he does. Keith nods along with the revelation he knows Lance has come to, that asking Keith to come back, to stay, is pointless. He doesn’t belong here. Not until the war is over at least. Lance still gives him a bright smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, wriggling his eyebrows as he sits up more on the bed. Keith laughs in spite of himself. “And all the days in the future?”

  “Goodbye Lance,” Keith whispers in a fond voice, smiling gently at the beautiful (and Keith didn’t even realize that until it’s too late) boy in front of him. Then he pulls his mask over his face before Lance can see the tears building in his gaze, because he isn’t going to make Lance share in the burden of feelings he shouldn’t even have. Keith turns and walks out the door before Lance can answer. He doesn’t want to hear goodbye, not yet, not when his next mission for the Blade will have him deep in Galra territory for weeks. He doesn’t want Lance to be afraid for him when he needs to be focusing on Voltron. They can talk about it afterwards, if they need to.

* * *

  Keith’s been dead for two weeks by the time the Blade’s able to come back and tell them, Kolivan’s tired, apologetic stare haunting Lance from across the screen. There’s no regret there and it makes his blood boil, even though Lance knows that’s how Kolivan, how the Blade, operates. The Castle suddenly feels empty even though Keith’s been gone for two months already. Shiro walks through the hallways like a ghost, suddenly seeming decades older as he hides out in the training room, the flavor of regret following him everywhere. Pidge and Hunk cry together and hide out in the corners of rooms, whispering stories about Keith. There aren’t nearly enough. Allura tries to focus on keeping them together, on the mission, but Lance can see where she’s fracturing at the edges.

  And him? Lance wanders back and forth between their rooms, staring at the few pieces of clothes left in Keith’s dresser, the jacket Pidge must have eventually hung back up against the wall. There’s so little of Keith in here. There’s even less in his room, but Lance can still feel his ghost on the sheets, see him in his mind sleepily pulling off his boots as they fell asleep together. Almost nothings, barely even friends, the touch of fingers and a whispered kiss all they’ll ever be.

  There’s no body and Lance wants to believe that means there will be more, that Keith is out there somewhere surviving by sheer will alone. If someone could, it would be Keith. But … Keith’s will seemed gone the last time Lance saw him, evaporated, and miracles don’t happen twice. Space gave them Shiro back, but there’s no reason to think that it’ll do the same with Keith. Lance wants to go look for him anyway, but he knows that isn’t what Keith would want. Not when the Galra are still out there.

  So instead they find themselves sitting around in a circle in the meeting room, expressions all painfully blank as they try to talk about Keith’s funeral. Lance wants to throw up. Allura rises from the table, placing her hands on the table as she speaks. Her voice is wavering more than usual, lines under her eyes as she stares at all of them. “We can have a memorial -”

  “No,” Lance says, voice surprisingly firm as he shakes his head. He sounds a little like Keith whenever he disagreed with everyone else on the team. Lance guesses someone needs to keep up his memory. “Keith wouldn’t have wanted that. He never liked the parades or anything like that, and it’s not like anyone in the Coalition remembers who he is anyway. He was only on the team for a few weeks while we had one.”

  “Lance is right, Keith would’ve wanted us to stay focused on the mission,” Shiro agrees after a moment, voice distant as he stares off into space. Lance follows his gaze, wondering if he’s looking for Keith, wanting to rescue Keith like Keith rescued him so many times. Lance wonders if Shiro feels like he failed somehow too and protecting what Keith wants is all they can do, or if he’s just projecting.

  “Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Allura sighs after a moment, looking away from the table with a low sigh. Lance understands, in a way. She wants people to remember Keith, his courage and determination and passion. But no one would know who he is anyway, if they’re honest with themselves. Keith left the team when the Coalition was barely getting started. Most people know him as Allura’s character in the ice show and nothing else. He’s already forgotten by everyone but the people on the Castle and the Blade.

  Somehow that makes Lance angry again, suddenly pushing his chair away from the table as he storms toward the door, catching Shiro’s eye as he reaches the door. Shiro stares back at him, gaze blank as he gives a soft nod for Lance to go. No one follows him and Lance finds himself in Keith’s room, sitting on his bed and searching the pillowcase for any sign of Keith, anything he left behind besides his clothes. He finds a few colored pencils on the floor next to his bed and feels his stomach drop. He didn’t even know Keith could draw. What else doesn’t he know, will never know?

  Eventually Coran comes into the room, gaze warm and regretful at the same time as he slid onto the bed next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder gently. Lance leans against him and lets a few tears slide down his face, shaking his head against Coran’s shoulder. He wants to see Keith here with his soft smiles and childish pouts, doing impulsive, impossibly brave things at every turn. But he’s never going to again.  

  “I had a friend during the first war, a talented young fighter who stalled when they got older,” Coran muses after a bit, and Lance pulls his head back to meet Coran’s knowing gaze. Lance nods for Coran to keep going, swallowing the lump in his throat that only grows thicker as Coran continues with his story. “He was very brave but also very scared, kind but distant. He worked in the armory.”

  “I’m sorry, Coran,” Lance mutters as Coran pauses, letting his words sink in, wondering who this person was, what they looked like, if they had messy black hair and pained eyes that looked grey or purple depending on the light. Lance wonders but doesn’t ask, because this is Coran’s story and Coran’s pain, and Lance wants to follow him on this journey, wherever it’s going. Lance wants there to be some kind of peace, some kind of revelation at the end of this tunnel all of them share, but Coran has maybe most of all.

  “He was one of the first to die in the war effort, in an explosion,” Coran tells him when he speaks again, voice growing heavier as his expression takes on a note of sorrow Lance has never seen there before. He remembers, suddenly, that for Coran, it’s only been a few years since that day. For the universe, it has been centuries. Keith already feels forgotten after a few days, Lance can’t imagine what Coran’s friends, his family and allies, feel like. “After a few days, almost no one remembered him. But Alfor and I, we talked about him quite a bit. His jokes, are favorite stories about him, the way he smiled.”

  Lance stares up at him, biting his lip as Keith’s smile, Keith flying through the asteroids, Keith leading them through Lotor’s bases before Shiro came back flash through his mind unbidden. Keith was getting better, even if he didn’t think he was. They were all growing together and they weren’t. Lance takes a shuddering breath as he looks up at Coran. “Why are you telling me this, Coran?”

  “Because it is up to those of us left to remember the ones who have gone,” Coran says in a gentle voice as he squeezes his shoulder, meeting his gaze firmly. Lance nods, not able to come up with any words, anything to say how he’s feeling. There’s so much grief and pain, but also anger and hurt and this strange resentment that Keith, Keith who was a part of this, special, died without anyone noticing. Died alone. “Even if they don’t seem important or as important as we thought they were going to be.”

  “He could’ve been,” Lance whispers in a tight voice, blinking back tears because Keith could’ve stayed on the team, could’ve been leader or could’ve flown Red again, or – or 100 other things that Lance never suggested. It wouldn’t have mattered. The only one who could’ve made Keith see how much he mattered was Keith and he doesn’t, no didn’t, ever see that. Lance doesn’t know how to fix that, how to make that truth hurt less.

  “Yes, he could have,” Coran agrees softly as he rubs his back, pulling him closer as they both sit on Keith’s bed. Lance stares at his red and white coat hanging against the wall and thinks about that and a few colored pencils are all they’ll ever have to remember Keith by. That and a few of the early Coalition posters, if they even still have any left. “And yes, he was.”

Lance stills at Coran’s words, nodding softly as he pulls himself to his feet. They need to finish planning how they’ll say goodbye to Keith. And maybe that has to be enough, the fact that the six of them (seven if you include Matt) know Keith and how important he was, remember and honor him with each mission.

  Maybe all there was were a few months when Keith belonged to them and a hazy night holding hands only Lance will ever know about, but that’s still something. Keith belongs with Voltron, even if they realized it too late, even if he never got the chance to realize it at all. A ghost that might still be out there is better than nothing. Lance has to believe that.


End file.
